


Uncaged

by ColourOuttaSpace



Series: Stories of Del'Kora [1]
Category: Dungeons & Dragons (Roleplaying Game)
Genre: F/M, Oral Sex, Rough Sex
Language: English
Status: Completed
Published: 2020-11-10
Updated: 2020-11-10
Packaged: 2021-03-08 19:02:44
Rating: Explicit
Warnings: No Archive Warnings Apply
Chapters: 1
Words: 3,801
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/27491638
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/ColourOuttaSpace/pseuds/ColourOuttaSpace
Summary: Reginald Templemount, bastard of a noblewoman and accomplished wizard, has had a bad day. He's deep in his cups when the estranged Tiefling scion of a far off kingdom comes to cheer him up. She wants him to let loose. He wants to stay in control.What happens next is the result of these two forces colliding.
Series: Stories of Del'Kora [1]
Series URL: https://archiveofourown.org/series/2010139





	Uncaged

Wine’s shit.

Reginald Augustus Haron Macarius Beauregard Templemount took his umpteenth sip, despite his internal comment on the quality of the beverage. He’d had a very harrowing day. A deadly one. The battle with those ruffians that had held the inn’s hospitality hostage led to the half-orc wizard lying on the ground, bleeding out, barely holding on to life. Had it not been for his companions… that tiefling... he would have surely perished. That moment he regained consciousness continued to flicker through Reginald’s mind. The final ruffian. Reginald’s burning hatred. Anger. The lightning from his hands rushing out to cook the thug where he stood.

Those hands, reaching out to stay him. Those slight, red, gentle hands.

“Well!”

The sudden exclamation and the loud slap of a hand on the wooden table brought Reginald out of his revery. The orchestra of the tavern, the bustle of the barkeeps and servers, the laughter of weary caravaneers taking a well deserved rest; it all rushed back to him. He shook himself and glanced at his new company.

“Is this the sulk corner over here,” Emma grinned fiendishly, “or are you just naturally morose?”

The dark-red tiefling slid into a chair next to Reginald, taking the pitcher of wine on the table and refilling her own cup. The half-orc raised himself up in his chair and out of his mope.

“Well, Your Grace,” he drawled in his deep, Lunnakian highborn accent. “I don’t know about you, but being put on the brink of death is not all that it’s cracked up to be. In fact,” Reginald grumbled, taking another sip of wine, “I would hazard to say it’s not pleasant at all.”

Emma’s playful grin vanished, and she glanced at the table with sadness. “I would assume it wasn’t, Reggy. At least you killed that fucking asshole. Got what he deserved.” The tiefling growled as she sipped from her cup.

“Dishonourable dregs… all of them,” Reginald whispered. “Despite the wine, however, I’m still livid.” He turned to look at his drinking companion. “Thank you, though, for having my back. Had you not been there, I’d have been a carcass to be picked over by those curs.”

She shook her head, leaning slightly on Reginald’s arm. “Wasn’t just me, Reggy.”

Reginald felt her warmth. Could smell her. The anger that had been stewing inside him for hours was beginning to boil again, but with something fresh added in. He drifted closer.

“Yes,” he murmured. “Yes, the cavalry came in, but you were the one to blow the horn that brought the rest of the party over.” His right hand glided over, resting on Emma’s left forearm. “For that, I must thank you.”

Emma smiled, letting go of her cup to pat his gigantic hand. “I just didn’t want to die myself… and with what they did to you.”

Reginald grasped Emma’s hand. It was gentle, but urgent with need. Emma raised an eyebrow and looked into Reginald’s eyes. He stared back into those pools of solid gold. His emotions were beginning to brim over, fueled by adrenaline and alcohol.

“Your Grace,” he whispered. “Emma… I just…”

Get a hold of yourself, Templemount.

He forced himself to let go. First her gaze, then her hand. Reginald returned to his cup of spiced wine and drank deeply. The sweet drink ran down his throat, coaxing him to drink more to forget his sorrows, his sinful wants… but it couldn’t drown out the presence of the lithe, alluring tiefling leaning towards him and resting herself on his arm. Her warmth and scent were more potent, more intoxicating than the wine.

“Tell me, Reggy,” she whispered. “What’s on your mind? You know how I hate holding back, censoring oneself.”

Reginald chuckled. “It’s a practiced skill for those raised in the nobility… the alcohol doesn’t help of course. Right now, though? After today? I feel less like myself and more… savage. It’s hard for me to stay in control.”

“Control?” Emma laughed. “Control is for the weak.”

“Well, how much do you know about orcs?”

Emma rested her chin on Reginald’s shoulder. “I think I know enough. Haven’t exactly met a lot in my life, but I think I get the jist.”

“Well,” he said after another sip of wine. “Orcs are wild incarnations of chaos. They are the ultimate hedonists, experiencing everything to the extreme. Killing, drinking, gambling... fucking. Everything is a short-lived stream of sensory experience.

“That moment of waking up after nearly dying… after that, I can feel that in me.” Reginald arched his back, his jaw protruded more than usual. He turned viciously towards Emma who thrust herself back. Quickly, he snatched her forearm, his orcish blood burning hotter than ever.

“I want to kill something,” he growled, his eyes growing wider and wilder. Emma’s eyebrows arched in surprise. “I want to kill it, burn it and feast on it. I want to guzzle all of the wine as I do so. I want-”

As the half-orc stared intently into Emma’s golden eyes, he could feel the need to grab her by the neck. To wrench her close. To drink in her essence, kiss her smirking lips, rip apart her-

Reginald!

Slowly, he released his grip on her arm. Slinked away, back to his dignified, perfectly poised sit, grasping his wine cup once more. Emma was still… but not fearful. In fact, she frowned in disappointment. Not that he could see.

“Control, Your Grace,” Reginald finally sighed, the exhale so deep it shook his barrel chest, “is what keeps those around me safe.”

Emma lunged, wrecking Reginald’s composure. She dug her nails into his back with her left hand, dragging him back towards her. He felt her breath, hot and fast, on his hairy cheek. Reginald whipped his head back to see her fierce eyes and hungry grin. He barely noticed her right hand sliding further up his inner thigh.

“Fuck control,” she hissed. “I crave chaos. I want that beast, Reggy. I want it, and I know it won’t kill me.”

Reginald’s raging lust flared, and he grabbed Emma by the throat with his left hand. Their noses were barely a centimeter apart.

“How do you know that, Your Grace?” he hissed back.

“Because,” she grinned. “You would have done it already.”

Reginald growled and thrust himself towards Emma. She braced for his advance.

CRACK

The balcony snapped above the drunken pair, and a silver dragonborn dove into the crowded commons with a wriggling man in his crushing embrace. They landed on a table, and the wooden surface split from the force of the two falling a story above. Reginald and Emma tore away from each other, the half-orc stumbling up from his seat.

“What the fuck? Why is Sarkany wrestling with that guy?” Emma spluttered, glancing from the fight and back to Reginald. Her surprise grew when she saw Reginald gathering his cloak.

“I’m sorry, Your Grace,” he said. His eyes did not dare meet hers. “I must beg my leave of you. I’m very tired.”

“Reggy, wait-”

“Goodnight, Your Grace.”

The half-orc bastard turned without another word, stumbling towards the stairs that lead to his room. Emma huffed into her chair, brows furrowed, cheeks buzzing and flushed.

“Dammit… goodnight, I guess,” she mumbled, leaning to pour what was left of the wine pitcher into her cup.

-

The first knock woke her up, and that pissed her off. She was trying to sleep, dammit, why were people up at this hour it was a rest day for the gods’ sake. Go back to bed.

The second knock finally got her up. She struggled out of bed, put on her cloak, and held it shut as she shuffled to the door, holding her throbbing head.

“I swear to whatever gods may be listening that-”

“Good morning, Your Grace.”

Reginald was standing in the threshold as Emma opened the door. He was dressed simply, just pants and a tunic. His black, coarse hair was loose, falling to the middle of his back instead of the tight braid he normally had. His silk shirt was only half-tucked into his trousers. It was opened slightly, too, showing the top of his hairy chest. His beard was still neat as ever, though. That never seemed to be askew.

She looked at the half-orc, and saw a completely different man. Or rather, the man she normally saw. Not the one from last night. Her tail began to sweep across the floor, thinking about those events.

“Oh, uh,” Emma finally stammered. “Morning, Reginald.”

“I… wanted to apologize for my behaviour last night. It was most unbecoming.”

Emma looked down at the floor, rubbing her forearm where Reginald had grabbed her. “Don’t apologize,” she said softly. “Drinks were flowing heavily last night.”

Reginald stepped in closer, reaching for her arm. Gently, he held the dark red limb with his left hand, caressing the skin with his right. Emma looked up, her core fluttering at his touch.

“Reginald?”

The half-orc smiled. “I didn’t bruise you. Good.”

“I’m not as fragile as you think I am.”

“Your spirit may be strong, Your Grace, but that doesn’t change the body’s fragility… I ramble.”

He let go of her arm and reached behind him, untying a pouch on his belt.

“I found a perfume salesman in the caravan. He happened to stock a pricey bottle.”

Reginald opened the bag and pulled out a glass bottle. The liquid itself looked like starlight in a purple sky, the sun from the window making it shine brilliantly.

“This,” Reginald continued “is as close to the lap of luxury as you can get out here. It mixes with the bath water, and brings about the scents of ‘simple joys.’ That changes for each user, of course. An alchemist trick.”

Emma’s heart skipped a beat as this regal half-orc took her hand and laid the bottle inside her palm. She could feel the heat rising in her, a rush that made her… excited, scared, elated all at once. She had always abhorred all of the pomp and circumstance her family extolled, had run across an entire ocean to escape it and her family’s mistreatment, but the tiefling had always craved for the luxuries denied her. She couldn’t help but harbor a small nugget of envy… and this man held together with that same pomp was unknowingly satisfying that envy.

Emma raised her eyes to meet Reginald’s. Took note of his face, his trimmed beard… that open shirt and chest.

“Emma?”

The tiefling snapped out of her fugue. Refocused. She had unwittingly stepped closer to Reginald during her examination, her tail idly curling behind her.

“I’m… very thankful for this gift, Reggy,” she said, smirking. Taking her left hand away from clasping her cloak closed, she grasped the half-orc’s forearm and pulled him gently into her room. Her tail swept forward, hitting the door with enough force to close it shut. As the latch clicked shut behind the pair, Emma shrugged, letting the cloak flow down her back and to the floor. Reginald drew in a sharp breath, his eyes widening at the sight of Emma’s bare, athletic body. There he was, that beast. That chaotic monster from last night, eager to rip out of these… noble trappings.

“Well, Reggy,” Emma whispered, cocking an eyebrow. Her left hand placed itself on his waist, slid up against his barreled chest, grasped at his tunic.“I have a thank you gift in mind. Care to-”

She didn’t have the chance to finish as Reginald pounced on her, placing his hand on the small of her back and pulling her tightly to him. Emma embraced this newborn beast as he kissed her, the sweet taste of his lips sending a rush down her spine and into her tail. In response, the tail slid and wrapped itself around the half-orc’s leg, beckoning him to come closer.

Instead, Reginald pulled her to him, cupping the tiefling’s buttocks with one hand while supporting her back with the other. He lifted her up and clasped her tightly, never breaking the kiss. Emma wrapped her legs around his waist, twisting her cloven hooves together. She reveled in the embrace, feeling her breasts pressed against his chest, his soft, noble hands roughly grabbing her ass, digging his fingers into her back. She grasped hungrily at his shirt, stretching the silk to its limit.

Finally, Reginald left her mouth, laying down a line of kisses down her cheek and neck. Emma raised her chin, inviting him to nuzzle her, brushing his whiskers down her nape. She felt his chest rumble as he growled with unfettered, animal pleasure, and then gasped as she felt him bite. The pain was sudden, unexpected… chaotic.

Exactly what she wanted.

There was a sharp crack as Reginald smacked Emma’s ass. She gasped again, letting her senses overflow with carnal ecstasy. That was a surprise. For a brief moment, the tiefling wondered what she had unleashed in him. That glimpse of a thought was pushed aside as the half-orc made his way to her breasts, licking her nipple, sucking, biting it between his teeth. Emma yelped at the sensations pouring through her. She felt his tusks brush against her skin as he migrated to the other tit. Gods, it had been far too long.

Reginald took several steps towards the bed and tossed the tiefling onto the thrown over sheets. Emma gasped as she landed on her back, letting the tidal wave of emotions rush over her and through her. The beast before her yanked off his shirt, revealing his hairy green chest.

“Yes!” she hissed. “Fucking take me, you bast- gack!”

Reginald’s thick hand shot out and wrapped around her slender neck, pinning her down on the bed. His other hand roughly pulled the string belt holding his trousers, letting them fall to the floor as he strode in. He leaned over, growling as he kissed her with animalistic zeal. She took it all in, tasting him, struggling for air. Emma reached down and began to rub her clitoris, adding to the euphoria as she desperately waited for him to take her.

“Please! Please, just fu-aaah!” Emma got out, just as she felt him enter her. Her head jerked back, eyes closed. Gods, how he filled her! Reginald grabbed her waist with both hands, anchoring her there. Slowly at first, the half-orc pulled back, then thrust, faster and faster, a carnal green tide pushing her closer to a hedonist’s nirvana. The tiefling had no control, the rush of pleasure twisting her arms. She clutched at the sheets, the baseboard, anything she could hold onto as she lost herself. Her tail also flailed, finally wrapping itself around his leg. Reginald went faster, harder, letting his primal need take over.

Suddenly, Reginald grabbed under her leg, turning her onto her belly. Emma barely registered what was happening before she was being pressed down again, this time his large hand on her right shoulder blade, digging into her dark red skin with a ravenous grasp. She felt the beast behind her, and her tail wriggled around his waist in response. Reginald entered her again, and her gasp joined his satisfied growl. Emma reached out with her right hand, clinging to the bed sheets as he thrust into her again and again. The hand on her shoulder moved to yank her head back by her horn. She yelped as Reginald pulled her up, riding her like he would a horse.

“Gods, fuck me!” Emma cried, reaching down to rub her clit. He grabbed her ass and followed her order with enthusiasm. She couldn’t think, didn’t wish to. The tiefling furiously rubbed herself as Reginald continued to penetrate her over and over and-

“GAH!”

Emma came with a gasp, her breaths quick and heavy. Pleasure thrummed outwards from her belly. Reginald released her horn, letting her body flop down on the bed as the climax finished pulsating through her being. Reginald also slowed to a stop, finally pulling out. Emma was still in a daze as he flipped over again. His body pressed down on her as he kissed her once more, and she wrapped herself around her beast’s naked body. Her hands clung onto his hair, dug into his back. Her legs entwined with his. She drank him in. He was the chaser, a shot of extra passion after a primal fucking.

Reginald wriggled his arm under Emma’s frame and rolled, bringing her onto his chest. She could feel that he was still erect, his member rubbing against her tail. Between the stream of kisses, she giggled, slid her hand down, grasped Reginald, and began to stroke him. The half-orc let out a satisfied grunt as he, in turn, reached down to grab Emma’s ass. The tiefling smiled as she broke the kiss, bringing her mouth over to his cock. Her forked tongue slithered out, and starting from the base, slid her tongue up, her golden pools staring into the noble’s dark eyes. He reached out and weaved his fingers into her hair, laying his head back into the crumpled covers of the tavern bed. Emma took him into her mouth, sliding her lips down his shaft. She smiled as he let out a moan. She had power over him, now. He was her beast.

His grip on her hair tightened as she rhythmically bobbed her head, letting the half-orc fill her mouth, reach her throat. He growled with another outburst of pleasure, his right hand slamming the bed and gripping the covers.

“Raagh!” Reginald exhaled. “Fuck me!”

Emma took him out of her mouth, grinning wickedly. “I believe that’s the point, Reggy.”

Reginald grinned back, the same amount of wild glee in his eyes. He wrapped the other hand into Emma’s hair, bringing the tiefling back to the task at hand. She opened wide, feeling him thrust his cock down her mouth with almost the same vigour as when she lay on the bed. Fast, eager, wanting. Chaotic.

“Oh, gods,” he hissed. Reginald threw his head back once more, snarling. Emma felt him pull her hair in desperation, ramming him down her throat. She frantically pushed back, releasing him from her mouth just as he climaxed. Semen spread across her face, onto her horns, her hair. Reginald let out a satisfying sigh, untangling his hands from her hair. Emma scrunched her face in disgust.

“God damn it,” she grunted. “You could at least tell me you’re going to fucking come in my mouth.”

Reginald laughed deeply as he looked up from his resting spot. “I’m sorry, Your Grace… I lost control.”

“No shit,” Emma said flatly. “You can at least clean it off me.”

“Of course, Your Grace.”

“And stop calling me that!”

-

“Um, Reggy?”

“Yes, Emma?”

Reginald knew that the question was going to pop up sooner or later. He knew it when he laid on his belly and felt her slender fingers tracing the thick webbing of scars on his back.

“Who did that to you?”

Reginald didn’t move. Just allowed her to continue tracing as he laid contentedly away from her.

“Remember, on the road,” he began in his noble drawl, “when I said my family saved me?”

“I do.”

“They did so from my father. He was a savage man, seeing his family as nothing but pawns to further his schemes, a means to gain power amongst the princes. My mother… went out one night to escape him. That’s how I came about.

"For years I became his favorite whipping boy. Always trying to beat me into submission. Literally, as you can tell. Through the grace of my mother and siblings, I learned to control my more primal nature and at least pass as a gentleman. For a while, that appeased the lord of the house.”

Reginald felt the slender fingers clench into a fist on his back. “If I ever come across him, I’m going to kill him.”

Reginald grinned, chuckled even. It tickled him that Emma, the reluctant scion of a Duchy, would want to avenge him, the bastard son of a noble woman. Of course, Emma was a rebel like that. He grunted as he turned to face her, resting his head in his propped hand.

“I appreciate your enthusiasm, Emma,” Reginald muttered. “Fortunately, you don’t need to bear the sin of that crime on your shoulders. It already rests on mine.”

Emma’s eyes widened. Reginald waved his hand dismissively.

“You see, to help control myself, I read books. Countless books. I delved into the lore of the world in order to keep myself from breaking more things in the castle… avoiding my father’s belt. That all changed when Jezebelle was born.

“As you already know, she’s a tiefling. She was another stain on the lord’s honour, and I knew his ire would fall on her eventually. I was there to intercept. I took her blame upon my back. After all, I was already scarred. Had tougher skin than the toddler’s.

“During this time, I had been studying magic from a spellbook my older sister was able to smuggle my way. I tried to learn how to protect myself. This came in handy one day when Jezebelle - she’s always been curious and hands on - anyway, she toppled a decorative suit of armor in the lord’s study. He had become even more volatile, a drunkard. When I had arrived to find out what all the clattering was about, I saw my father raising a saber to kill my baby sister.

“I desperately cast Mage Armour on her, which narrowly saved her. When the Earl saw what I had done, he turned to me with his saber…” 

Reginald paused. The events all played out before his eyes. The roar from the lord, his anger, Jezebelle’s scream, his young hands desperately making the sigil…

“The hole in his chest was… big,” he whispered. “Or, I thought it was. It was my first Magic Missile.”

A gentle kiss on his forehead broke the horrific reverie. He glanced up to see Emma, her slender hand cupping his cheek.

“He deserved what he got,” she said softly. “You should not feel like you commited a crime. You protected those you loved. Who you find precious. Knowing all this now… I feel guilty for my comments towards your mother.”

Reginald laughed, sliding his arm underneath her and letting her head rest on his chest.

“I think they can be forgiven, Your Grace,” he sighed. “That being said… this all stays between us.”

“Which part?”

Reginald chuckled, idly rubbing the end of Emma’s tail between his thumb and forefinger. “This, and what I told you… It’s not something I tell just anyone.”

Emma reached across and embraced the half orc, nuzzling herself into his chest. “Of course, Reggy.”

“Thank you, Emma.”


End file.
